


So show me family

by ariadne_odair



Series: Just close your eyes, the sun is going down [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Basically Arthur being all protective and sweet, English football BECAUSE THAT'S REAL FOOTBALL, Established Relationship, Fluff, Football, I don't even like football tbh, Jock Arthur, M/M, Protective Arthur, Shy Merlin, also, and Merlin loves him for it, nerd merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 21:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1403749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadne_odair/pseuds/ariadne_odair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're coming to my football game, right?"</p><p>Merlin's curled up on Arthur's bed, face pressed into the pillow. His gangly limbs are tucked underneath him, eyes shut. He looks like a cat. Arthur's pretty sure Merlin loves his bed more than he loves him.</p><p>Merlin shrugs, eyes shut. "Er, no."</p><p>Arthur frowns. "Why not?" He smirks. "I like you as my own personal cheer leader."</p><p>"I'm not a fucking cheer leader, Arthur," Merlin scowls, and flips him off without opening his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So show me family

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone was so nice about the other fic so I decided to write this one :)

"You're coming to my football game, right?"

Merlin's curled up on Arthur's bed, face pressed into the pillow. His gangly limbs are tucked underneath him, eyes shut. He looks like a cat. The sun light from Arthur's window shines across the bed, the rays softening the hard edges of Merlin's face. Merlin shifts, pulling the pillow closer.

Arthur's pretty sure Merlin loves his bed more than he loves him.

Merlin shrugs, eyes shut. "Er, no."

Arthur frowns. "Why not?" He smirks. "I like you as my own personal cheer leader."

"I'm not a fucking cheer leader, Arthur," Merlin scowls, and flips him off without opening his eyes.

Arthur puts down his economics homework, swivelling round in his chair. Merlin's got his eyes open now, the deep grey gazing back at him impassively. "Are you actually being serious? You said you would come, it's the first match of Sixth Form. It's not like it's some American cliche, but it does mean a lot to me. Everyone from Sports Studies is on the team, Lance, Gwaine, Percy."

"I know," Merlin says, his voice small, "It's just that I have a massive English test to revise for."

Arthur thinks about it for a second, then stops, glowering at Merlin. "No, you don't. That was last week, because I distinctively remember you having a hysterical breakdown around Wednesday."

"It wasn't a hysterical breakdown," Merlin mutters sullenly, pouting.

"You cried. Twice. And you kicked me out  _my_ house for distracting you from revision, only to remember you didn't live there. And then you got an A any way!"

Merlin sighs, shrugging, and Arthur feels something freeze in his chest. It's like a cold hand has slid behind his ribs, squeezing his heart, halting his blood flow. A cruel though enters his head on its own accord, and once he's thought it, he can't get rid of it.

Maybe Merlin doesn't want to come to his match. Maybe Merlin's sick of watching Arthur run around, playing a pointless sport for a pointless reason.

It's not that Arthur's  _stupid,_  but he can't make words sing like Merlin does. He can't create a picture out a handful of sentences, or pick a hidden message out of a few lines. He's more - practical. Good with his hands. Good with business. 

Arthur's not going to force him to go to the game, _can't_ force him to go.

He might leaves.

Arthur really doesn't want any one else to leave.

"You don't have to come," he says, voice calm and even, despite the fact his pulse is racing and his muscles feel tight. "It's cool."

Arthur turns back to the desk, eyes fixed on the economic paper, even though the words blur, the lines of text unreadable.

"Arthur?" Merlin says quietly, and Arthur thinks _please don't get mad please don't get mad, I'm sorry if I'm not good enough, please don't leave._

"I know the game's important to you," Merlin continues, voice soft, "That's why I don't want to be there. The guys on your team - I. I don't want to embarrass you."

"What?" Arthur asks, spinning round in his chair. He gapes at Merlin, incredulous. Merlin pulls his knees up to his chest, head resting on his knees. "What do you mean embarrass me? And what about the rest of the team? They all love you. More than me, and I'm their captain."

Arthur feels anger surge through him, a furious buzzing starting in the back of his brain as he watches Merlin tuck himself in tighter. He can feel his hands clench, eyes fixed on Merlin's face.

"It's your first game. I don't want you to be known as the guy with the geeky boyfriend," Merlin mutters, face scarlet, and Arthur feels his stomach plummet. "You get it enough at school."

Arthur stands up suddenly, shoving the chair away, sending his economics paper flying. He stalks over the bed to stand in front of Merlin, then stops, awkward, the sudden momentum gone as quickly as it arrived.

"Merlin," Arthur says uncertainly, not knowing what to do. His first thought is to comfort Merlin, to tug him in tight, to protect him until he doesn't feel scared any more. To meld their bodies together until there's no space to  _breathe,_ let alone feel ashamed.

"I'm not ashamed of you," Arthur says fiercely, grabbing Merlin's hand in his. Merlin makes a little noise at the back of his throat, but Arthur holds them tighter, locks their fingers together. "Why would you even think that?"

Merlin rolls his eyes, which Arthur takes a positive sign. Merlin's not so distraught he can't be his usual impertinent self.

"Golly gee, Arthur," Merlin sighs, "I wonder why I can be feeling insecure. It's not as if you're the specimen of human perfection or anything." He glares at Arthur when Arthur grins. "I said human perfection, not God, dick head."

"Well, my unending beauty aside," Arthur says, and winces when Merlin uses their grasped hands to dig his nails into Arthur's skin. "Why are you so nervous? It's not like you belong in a freak circus or anything."

Merlin ducks his head, and Arthur feels clumsy, brutish, the words stuck on his tongue. He's never been good at this, at revealing how he feels, and he's never had to, not with Merlin. 

"Look," Arthur says lowly, "I don't care what any one else thinks. You're gorgeous, okay? You're funny, you're nice, you're way too sarcastic for your own good, and you'd - " Arthur shakes his head, unable to find the words. "You'd probably save an ant from drowning in a bird bath, your heart's so big."

Merlin laughs, the sound choked, but it's a laugh none the less. "You're crap at this whole feelings thing, you know?"

"I take it back," Arthur says immediately, and Merlin laughs. "I take it all back. You're a horrible and mean person. I don't even know why you're touching me. Get off, peasant."

Merlin smiles, leaning forward to kiss him. Merlin's lips are soft, the kiss chaste but sweet. Arthur tugs him forward so Merlin's sitting in his lap. Merlin's not very heavy, but the weight's reassuring, the feel of his thighs wrapped around Arthur's hips a comfortable weight.

They break apart, faces inches apart. Merlin's eyes are so blue this close, thick eyelashes resting against his cheek, fluttering like butterfly wings. Arthur's close enough to see the small ring of hazel around the pupil.

"When are you going to tell your Dad about us?" Merlin murmurs, his lips barely moving.

Arthur runs his hands soothingly up and down Merlin's back; Merlin's too skinny, he can feel the way his spine juts out. "Soon, you know I will. Everyone else knows any way, all the guys on the team do, and Will. Besides, he knows we're friends just not - "

"Friends who suck each other's dicks?" Merlin says flatly, then squeaks when Arthur pinches his hip. "Hey, it's true. He's missing some vital details if he thinks all we do in your room is homework. Like the fact we're actually doing each other."

"Shut  _up,_ Merlin," Arthur groans, resting his forehead against Merlin's, but even he can hear the fondness in his tone. He brings his hand up to play with the hair at the back of Merlin's neck, tugging the black strands gently. "Seriously, I'm going to tell him."

He doesn't want to tell his Dad, but he's not going to  _lie._ Well, that what he tells himself. Funnily, putting it into practise is a little harder. He's woken up in a cold sweat too many times to count, imagining his Dad's face, imagining the poisonous words that will come spilling out, the aching disappointment. 

But he's not going to lie. Not to his Father, but mainly not to himself.

"Hey," Merlin says softly, dragging Arthur back to the present, "You were miles away. Where'd that non-existent brain go to?"

"Thinking of something that'll cheer you up," Arthur replies, grinning, "Even more than the perfection of my - "

Merlin hits him with a pillow.

 

 

"I can't believe you're doing this."

"Shut up, Merlin."

"See, this is why I didn't take the jacket, because even if I  _was_ a cheer leader, I wouldn't be one for you."

"Yeah, but you wore the scarf," Arthur points out, grinning and Merlin scowls at him, Arthur's burgundy scarf wrapped snugly round his neck. He's got a burgundy beanie too, pulled down over his ears. It's cute, but everything about Merlin's cute. Arthur really needs to work on building up an immunity to that.

"You're so embarrassing," Merlin hisses, as Arthur pulls him towards the changing rooms. Arthur's already changed, red and white kit on, footie boots polished, shin pads strapped tight. Merlin keeps grumbling, but Arthur ignores. He normally does. Or just kisses Merlin to shut him up.

"C'mon, Merlin," Arthur says, pushing open the chamber room doors. "I actually have a team to shout at, you know. Football isn't just about kicking a ball around a pitch."

"Oh, yes," Merlin retorts as they enter the changing rooms, "Silly me. Sometimes you swear at each other and pretend you've got injuries, don't you?"

Arthur just sighs, tangling their fingers together tightly. The other lads are all bickering and shouting; he can see Lance and Gwaine teasing each other, bitching about the amount of hair product Lance uses. Percy is ignoring them, smacking his shoes together to get all the mud off them - he hasn't cleaned them since the last game, pig.

"Okay, listen up," Arthur shouts, and they all turn to look at him. None of them are particularly fazed by Merlin being there - they all know about Merlin and him, ever since Gwaine walked in on them sharing one of the tiny showers. Gwaine hadn't been shocked, if his offer of a threesome was anything to go by. Arthur had made Gwaine do suicides runs for two hours at practise the next day.

Merlin shuffles awkwardly beside him, but doesn't unclench their hands. After Arthur's motivated his team - kicked their lazy butts into gear more like - he turns to Merlin, grinning at him. "See," he says, nudging Merlin with an elbow, "Who cares who I go out with. I like you, you like me. We live happily ever after, isn't that how the fairy tales go?"  
  
Merlin shakes his head, smirking. "Well, actually, no. Most fairy tales we have today are abridged versions, the original were far more sinister - "  
  
Arthur kisses him to shut him up. The football team cheer behind them, and Arthur can taste Merlin's smile on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a Coming Out To Uther fic! And I've planned some more parts, but I'm up for any prompts or suggestions people would like :)


End file.
